I try to keep my sobbing silent, but it hurts to be a fraction again. I miss being two. Two was so delicious, so comforting, so warm. Never apart. So strong together that we even managed to soften the devil into believing he loved me, if only for just a second. I provided for him, and he used to do cartwheels inside me, but I never yelled at him. I never told him that playing at three o’clock in the morning was not letting me sleep. Maybe I didn’t hold my belly enough. Maybe I didn’t talk to him enough to let him know how much I wanted him, that I had changed my mind, needed and loved him with
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